Closer Apart
by sparkycola1
Summary: Greg Angst- Greg goes through an unimaginable trauma
1. Chapter 1

Closer Apart  
  
Author: SparkyCola  
  
Disclaimer: not mine yada yada ya  
  
Summary: Greg Angst, Greg goes through an unimaginable trauma, and the CSI's see things in a different light. I know, I know- better summaries welcome.....  
  
Rating: PG 13 to be on the safe side.  
  
Spoilers- I don't...*think* so.  
  
Archiving: ScarletRose, Krazy go ahead, anyone else sure just tell me where it's going before or after.  
  
Warning- erratic chapter lengths. *shrugs*  
  
Inspired by Krazy, the mini-Greg in my mind, the mess I lovingly call my bedroom and Caffeine.  
  
Ps- I'll stop if I think no one's reading it so please please r and r, thanks  
  
Chapter 1  
  
The music thumped in the background; glasses chinked, people talked, laughed, flirted and danced. Colourful lights flashed around as Nick glanced over his shoulder, his friends just waved him on and he continued towards the pretty brunette he'd seen in a far corner.  
  
"Would you care to dance?"  
  
He yelled over the music. A large, heavily built man seemingly appeared out of nowhere and stood beside her, Nick immediately backed off.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
He said, before retreating to the bar and his friends, Jamie and Rob, who patted him on the shoulder sympathetically, laughing. Only just sitting down he heard a familiar voice call his name and turned to see Greg and some other guy standing nearby.  
  
"Hey."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
Nick replied, surprised. Recovering he introduced Rob and Jamie. Greg pointed to the stranger next to him.  
  
"This is Justin, and he..."  
  
Greg gestured to a guy nearby who seemed to be trying to eat the girl he was with, starting with her tongue.  
  
"He is Tom. Guys this is Nick, he's a CSI at the crime lab."  
  
There was a slightly awkward moment before the two groups parted, having said all they needed to. With a 'see you later' Greg and his friends had gone.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
As the day broke, Sara sat up in bed reviewing a case file. She was going to bed early so she wasn't tired for an appearance in court that evening. Her mind did not wander to her friends, and she didn't think about what they were doing. If she had, she might have guessed correctly that one rollercoaster ride was being revisited, and clubs were being invaded elsewhere in Vegas, whilst Catherine made breakfast and waited for Lindsey to wake up to go to school. Warrick ran past her house, unaware it was Catherine's home, on his morning jog. Today he stopped outside to catch his breath before going on. Catherine opened the window to let some air in, oblivious to her colleagues' presence there just a few seconds ago.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Laughing, Greg and his two best friends staggered, drunk, out of the back door of the club. The club was about to close- this was the cue to hail a taxi and go home.  
A taxi slowed down, looking alarmed. By the time they had found out why it was too late. All three, Greg, Justin and Tom, were knocked out swiftly and efficiently.  
The last thing they saw before darkness enveloped them was the slightly wet pavement reflecting Vegas' multicoloured lights.  
  
TBC 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
Greg awoke with a blinding hangover; but he accepted that this was his own fault. So who was yelling? His eyes were blurry, after a few seconds he realised that he was tied up. This came as a bit of a shock to him, but not as much as the spotlight in the middle of the otherwise dark room. Or rather, what the spotlight was focused on. And so he found out who was screaming- his mother.  
  
Horrified Greg tried to break free, but couldn't. A figure completely in black was slowly stabbing his mother and all he could do was watch. Strike after strike the shadow seemed to be trying not to laugh as it reached into the light and took his last blow, disappearing from view as Greg's mother, strewn on the cold floor bled her life on to the dirty grey concrete. He turned his head away as his mother cried out his name, begging him for help with the last breath she possessed. Tears ran freely down his face. This was all too much for him. In a mixture of fury and devastation the latter won and the tears fought to come out faster, to match the amount of pain he felt inside. Wasn't there something he could have done?  
  
The lights came on after a while and the figure in black strode casually towards him. Greg struggled furiously against his restraints but to no avail. His captor took off the black balaclava hiding his face.  
  
"You see Mr. Sanders, it's not very nice to lose someone you love is it?"  
  
And with that, his captor turned and left, though not before turning out the lights, leaving Greg in absolute darkness.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Back at the CSI labs, Ecklie made a decision. He was calling up the graveyard shift to handle a case that had just come in; something he never thought he would do. A taxi driver had reported a crime outside a club. Fortunately the guy had a photographic memory; he could give clear details on what all three victims looked like and the attacker. Ecklie had recognised Greg immediately. It was typical- the only member of the graveyard shift he actually liked was the one to get kidnapped.  
  
"Grissom? It's Ecklie...I think you should call up your CSI's and get over here."  
  
Gil was tempted by a sarcastic reply but bit his tongue, gut instinct telling him that this was serious.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
There was a pause on the other end of the phone.  
  
"It's Greg, we think he's been kidnapped."  
  
Grissom tensed.  
  
"I'm on my way."  
  
Grissom grabbed a coat and car keys before he remembered the others. He was almost thinking about going it alone and leaving the others blissfully unaware, but thought better of it.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
At the lab people buzzed everywhere. Grissom and his CSI's however, stood still in the middle of the corridor. Ecklie rushed over to them and in the emergency, any kind of rivalry between them was forgotten. He held up the artist's impressions of Greg, Justin, Mark and the kidnapper. Nick took the pictures off Ecklie.  
  
"Hey I met these guys, Tom and...Justin I think...they're friends of Greg."  
  
"And the fourth?"  
  
Grissom asked Nick but Ecklie answered when Nick shrugged.  
  
"James Roe. Brother of Edward Roe..."  
  
Grissom got the implication immediately and explained to the others.  
  
"Two months ago, the wardrobe case. Victims were found hanging in their own wardrobes. The case was going to go flat but Greg ran into the courtroom at the last moment with evidence, Eddie Roe got the death penalty."  
  
After a pause Grissom noticed everyone staring at him for guidance on what they should do next.  
  
"Usually I would advise you not to make it personal. This is personal; but if we lose focus we'll screw up and we cannot afford to make mistakes when Greg's life hangs in the balance got that?"  
  
They nodded hesitantly.  
  
"Let's get started. Nick and Sara, you head for the crime scene, Warrick, Catherine, with me- we're going to the suspect's house."  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
A flash of light left his eyes with dancing colours for a moment. Trying to see past the colourful fuzz, Greg recognised the next victim and cold fear possessed him. His sister Karla, looking straight at him with barely concealed terror. She had always been brave. She managed to choke out her last words to Greg before being shot in the stomach.  
  
"It's not your fault Greg."  
  
She fell to the floor and writhed in pain before her heart finally stopped. In shock Greg threw up. His beautiful sister, full of life a few seconds ago, planning to have a baby. Dead.  
  
"See here's the thing Sanders. I believe very strongly in fate."  
  
Roe said with a dangerously strong conviction and Greg realised that he was more that evil, he was totally insane.  
  
"And fate brought you and I together, so fate will decide which of us goes down. It's all a game luck, life, it's all down to who's lucky and you know what?! It's time luck was on my side for once!"  
  
He yelled angrily. He started pacing, then abruptly stopped and looked at Greg. His voice was shaky and psychotic.  
  
"It's Vegas, Vegas...Do you gamble Greg? Do you? Casinos and slot machines? It's Vegas....."  
  
Greg was still in shock. He couldn't find the strength to speak, fearing that answering the maniac in front of him would almost be like accepting this whole situation was real. Roe approached him with a furious glint in his eye.  
  
"Get away from me you psycho freak!!"  
  
Greg screamed without thinking. Roe started laughing maniacally as he hit Greg in the stomach, winding him. For the next twenty minutes Greg became the object of Roe's fury.  
  
In a way he didn't mind. It was like taking out the guilt on himself. He was 27 and had lost his family and friends. They had all died because of him, and he didn't know how to handle it, or if he even could; so he goaded Roe on even more. TBC 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
Nick got out his mobile and quick-dialled Grissom's number. Something about all of this niggled at him, but then again Greg was one of his colleagues, not just a stranger. Add that to the fact that they had bumped into each other at the very club Greg had been taken from and the whole thing seemed a little surreal, so Nick put any doubts he had to one side. Like Grissom said, he couldn't let this get personal. Speaking of whom.  
  
"Griss? I've got an address. Seems that Eddie's old house was inherited by his brother James."  
  
"It seems a little too easy but we can check it out."  
  
Nick relayed the address.  
  
"See you there"  
  
The phone clicked. Grissom took a deep breath to calm down. Despite what he himself had said, Grissom was taking this personally.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
When Nick Stokes arrived at the address, he found the area swamped in police cars and officers. The other CSI's looked concerned. Nick tried to appear professional, but the look on the faces of his colleagues told him it wasn't working as well as he'd hoped.  
  
"Heat signatures show two people in the basement. Roe isn't coming out and to be honest, despite the threats there's not much we can do that doesn't put Greg's life in danger."  
  
Nick tensed. He didn't like this one bit. This was not his job, his job came after the crime- and for some reason even though he knew that if anything did happen to Greg, he wouldn't be allowed to process the scene, he couldn't get the thought of having to analyse Greg's dead body out of his head.  
A policeman came towards them; they could tell he'd been in the force a long time from the creases around his eyes.  
  
"The suspect just rang. He says he wants you guys to go in alone or Greg dies. We've got..."  
  
He glanced at his watch.  
  
"9 minutes left before he shoots Greg."  
  
"How do we know it's not a trap?"  
  
"We don't, and to be honest, the guy's a psycho. But...."  
  
He sighed awkwardly.  
  
"The only other option is SWAT teams. It's up to you. I don't think I need to outline how dangerous it is to go into that house, but there's a chance you can talk him out of it. I don't know."  
  
"How about if one of us is bugged? That way if something goes down in there you guys can make a house call and get us out..."  
  
"He specifically requested no bugs. I've reviewed the options, and either you go in or we do...but whatever happens, best be within the next seven and a half minutes.."  
  
"I think we should go in."  
  
Warrick said, surprising the others slightly with his forwardness. Nick nodded.  
  
"Me too."  
  
Catherine bit her lip, thinking of Lindsey but said,  
  
"I don't think we have much choice."  
  
Sara reluctantly nodded. Grissom shrugged and turned to the officer.  
  
"I guess we're going in then."  
  
"...your call. Follow me."  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
"H-hello? Is that the Las Vegas Crime lab? I was told to call here from the uh...the police station."  
  
Brass had a jacket in one hand and the phone in the other. He had been just about to leave when the phone rang and the man on the other end was holding him up. His impatience came through in his voice, despite his best efforts to keep it in check.  
  
"What's the problem?"  
  
"I saw three guys being kidnapped; this other guy just came up behind them and knocked them out and-"  
  
This caught Brass' attention.  
  
"Whoa, hold up a second, who are you?"  
  
"My name's Mike Crayshaw, I'm a taxi driver, I saw the whole thing."  
  
"Well we've already had a statement from another taxi driver and he has a photographic memory so thanks but-"  
  
"That's not possible. I was the only car there, it was the back of the club, the only taxi there was me."  
  
Brass paused. This put a whole new light on the matter. The guy who rang up before was in on it, which meant the CSI's were a target too.  
  
"Are you absolutely sure?"  
  
"Positive"  
  
Brass put the phone down immediately and dialled Grissom's mobile number, just as he was about to give up there was an answer.  
  
"Gil? It's me Brass, listen-"  
  
"No it's Chief inspector Tordoe, the CSI's are in the middle of a police operation at the moment, they've just gone into the house Captain."  
  
"What?! No! It's a set up, get them out of there it's a trap!"  
  
TBC 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
"Take another step and Greg dies."  
  
Roe stated in a matter-of-fact, if bored tone of voice. The CSI's had found Greg. The basement was dark, cold and rancid, thoughts flashed on what state they would find Greg in. Now they had to convince Roe to give Greg to them. Edward Roe's brother sighed.  
  
"You people are so predictable."  
  
The light was dim, just light enough to make out the figure of Roe pointing a gun at someone tied up in the shadow who they could only presume was Greg.  
  
"Turn the lights up and let us see Greg."  
  
The CSI's were not frightened by the situation, on the outside at least. They were worried for Greg's safety but this was a scenario they were more prepared for than most people. It was Grissom who had spoken, in a calm, steady voice which seemed to aggravate Roe slightly.  
  
"See I would do, but you wanna check if he's alright, and, well he's not alright. Don't get me wrong he's not dead. Probably wishes he was."  
  
Roe chuckled a dry laugh, and the inner worry of the CSI's deepened.  
  
"Now you're going to tie each other up, I'll be checking your efforts and if you try anything, or the ropes aren't tight enough...don't imagine I would hesitate to kill your lab rat."  
  
At the look on the faces of the CSI's Roe explained.  
  
"There's six of you and one of me, I'm not comfortable with the situation as is."  
  
Reluctantly they did as they were told. Roe went on cockily.  
  
"You know the bullet proof vests really aren't very subtle, even in this light, but if it makes you feel better."  
  
Roe shoved a tied up Greg over to where the others were standing and they tried their best to resist any temptation to go to him and see if he was ok. Sara, standing next to him could tell he was fiddling with the ropes around his wrists and, noting the lack of rope around his ankles felt a surge of hope, swiftly followed by fear for Greg's safety.  
  
"Now, are we all comfortable? You all had your part in killing my brother, and now I'm going to do to you, what you all did to Ed. It's-"  
  
Roe was interrupted by the sound of policemen storming upstairs. He ran to the door and locked it. Greg took the opportunity of his back being turned to jump him. Grabbing the gun out of his hand he punched Roe in the face then stood, eyes glinting dangerously with fury, with the gun to Roe's head. He cocked the gun, shouts from the CSI's sounding further and further away as he felt his heart pounding with passion. He didn't notice Sara diving to the floor at Nick's feet, his focus was entirely on the piece of dirt in front of him. His finger pulled back on the trigger slowly. Out of the commotion nearby his focus on Roe was destroyed as Nick stepped in between him and Roe.  
  
"Greg listen to me, you don't wanna do this."  
  
Greg dropped the gun in shock, having been about 2mm away from killing his colleague. The other CSI's were freeing each other; the bonds around their wrists gave limited movement but it fairly easy to untie each other from the ropes they themselves had tied. Warrick grabbed Roe before he lunged for the gun lying on the floor. The police burst through the door. They took stock of the situation quickly and took Roe away. Greg stood shaking for a while before collapsing on the floor, led down slightly by Nick's hand. Nick sat in front of him and gauged how in shock the young lab tech was.  
  
Greg grabbed Nick urgently, tears streaming down his face.  
  
"He killed my Mom, my sister and my best friends."  
  
He choked on the words, as if the impact was only just making itself known to him.  
  
A range of emotions flooded Nick's face; shock, rage, disgust and pity among them. He pulled Greg towards him and hugged him. Nick was close to his family.  
  
Sara and Catherine wandered cautiously over to them.  
  
"They found..."  
  
"Greg's family."  
  
Nick answered briefly, knowing they already knew about Greg's friends.  
  
Silently, they helped Greg up, and got him out of surroundings they knew wouldn't help, onto a waiting ambulance.  
  
TBC 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
In hospital the shaken CSI's gave way to tiredness and collapsed in the waiting room. Nick couldn't stop thinking about the loss Greg had suffered so dramatically and suddenly. He thought of his own family...then quickly tried to avoid that until later, when he was alone. The hospital smelt the same as all hospitals, a disinfectant smell with such connotations of illness and pain that the atmosphere was depressing, and any attempt to lighten that with bright paint or colourful pictures just seemed fake. He didn't expect anyone to say anything, but he tried to give Sara the appropriate amount of attention when she did.  
  
"I haven't called my brother for ages. Last time he phoned his wife had just had another miscarriage. Come to think of it he always seems to phone me."  
  
"Maybe you should give him a call now."  
  
Grissom said simply, and Sara nodded.  
  
"Will you guys..."  
  
"If anything happens we'll let you know."  
  
She smiled in gratitude and left either for a payphone or a quiet area to call from her mobile phone. The others were drawn into a deeper reverie by Sara's comments, knowing that family and friends were in the forefront of everybody's minds.  
  
"I didn't know Sara had a brother."  
  
Nick said suddenly, he didn't want to cry tonight, he felt like he had to stay together for Greg, especially now he didn't have anybody else. The CSI's were all he had left. This realisation sent a shiver down his spine, a feeling he couldn't identify but felt strongly.  
  
"I guess we...don't really know each other that well."  
  
Warrick nodded but Catherine just commented:  
  
"We're work colleagues; so long as we don't not get on we don't get paid to listen to each others' life stories."  
  
"Come on Catherine, we're all on night shift- doesn't leave much room for a social life- how come after shift we never took the time to get to know each other?"  
  
Grissom remained serious in his reply.  
  
"Maybe that says something about night shift CSI's."  
  
"I don't buy that."  
  
Warrick said quickly.  
  
"Look I don't know why we haven't in the past but if we don't pull together to support Greg who will?"  
  
"What about his father?"  
  
"He's coming in from Japan but he won't be in until tomorrow. He was working abroad. When he left he had a happy wife, daughter and son. Now his wife and daughter are dead and his traumatised son is recovering from torture in hospital."  
  
Grissom laid down the facts in his usual way, but while it was useful in cases, the others didn't appreciate it this time as they all looked to the pale blue and cream tiles of the floor striped wildly with various guiding strips of colour.  
  
They returned to a contemplative silence.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Sara returned after a couple of hours with a slight smile, though she looked as though she'd been crying.  
  
"So was he happy to hear from you?"  
  
Grissom asked, waking up Catherine and Nick who had drifted off.  
  
"I told him what had happened and he's coming down here tomorrow. It was good to hear from him again."  
  
The others nodded thoughtfully. When the doctor came an hour or so later to tell them they could go in and see Greg, they all felt reluctant. They had been waiting for hours – but the truth was they didn't know what to expect. Catherine Grissom and Nick went in first.  
  
Taking a deep breath it was Catherine who took the lead. Grissom couldn't help but think he was out of his depth; how was he supposed to behave around Greg now? He thankfully took Catherine's lead; somehow she always knew the right thing to do in these kinds of circumstances. Perhaps it was maternal instinct.  
  
"Hey Greg."  
  
Catherine said gently as Greg acknowledged her in the room. Grissom was glad she'd said something, otherwise there would be a prevailing silence as he and Nick choked on the image they saw. Before it was dark, but now they could see Greg in a grey kind of clinical light which seemed to make everyone look ill. His pale skin contrasted horribly against the bruises and cuts. Too many to count. The CSI's had seen too many people dead and alive much worse off than this to be shocked by it; but that wasn't what sent a shiver into them. It was the expression on Greg's face, an expression which didn't seem right on such a vibrant person, someone so young. They recovered themselves quickly for Greg's sake, and out of their daze they realised Catherine was at Greg's bedside holding his hands in hers as she tried her best to comfort him.  
  
They went over.  
  
"How do you feel?"  
  
Grissom asked with concern.  
  
"How do I feel?"  
  
Greg croaked out with some amount of venom in his voice.  
  
"Sorry. Stupid question."  
  
Greg seemed to dismiss him slightly, looking away. His eyes met with Nick's and Nick could feel the anger behind them directed in his direction.  
  
"You should have let me kill him Nick."  
  
"Greg, listen- what's better, him dying of the death penalty and you free, or him dying of a bullet to the head and you in prison?"  
  
Greg seemed to concede to the point and his eyes softened slightly.  
  
"He will get death penalty right?"  
  
"We will make sure of it Greg."  
  
Grissom commented, feeling a little more at ease though he wasn't sure why. He was more than a little relieved at Catherine and Nick's presence.  
  
Greg looked away, and Grissom and Nick took this as their cue to be replaced by Warrick and Sara.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Out of the two guests expected to arrive the next day, it was Marc Sidel who arrived first. He seemed friendly, the extroverted sociable type. This surprised the CSI's considerably- they expected him to be more like Sara, quiet and sensitive. Having said this Sara's brother was being considerate and caring towards his sister and even the strangers whom he knew only as his sisters' colleagues.  
  
It seemed to Nick that Marc and Sara had the kind of bond that only siblings could have. Close despite their different personalities; a friendship that probably wouldn't exist were they not related.  
  
The first thing they did was hug, and it was immediately obvious that Marc was the older of the two.  
  
"How are you holding up?"  
  
He asked in concern. Sara looked at him and shook her head.  
  
"I never really thought of my job putting you in danger before now, but...."  
  
"Hey, hey... it's ok. sounds like this guy was a nutcase. He was looking for somebody to blame, that doesn't mean that it was this kid's fault."  
  
She still didn't look entirely reassured, but said forcefully:  
  
"I know it's not Greg's fault! But it still happened, and if Greg wasn't a CSI lab tech it wouldn't have happened."  
  
"Sara listen, I've never been as smart as you but I know this: Greg was just doing his job. This psycho guy was looking for revenge, because Greg did his job well. It happens to police, doctors, firemen- people look for someone to blame; it's human nature. But if one psycho stops thousands of people becoming doctors or police, or CSI or CSI lab technicians, or whatever- they win. And the people who lose are the innocent people who would have been saved, the ill or injured, or the victims of crime. Do you understand that?"  
  
The other CSI's stared at him after this little speech in admiration. Warrick spoke.  
  
"Sara you're brother's right."  
  
Sara nodded and blinked back some tears. She changed the subject.  
  
"Do you know when Greg's father is arriving?"  
  
Grissom looked at his watch.  
  
"He should have arrived by now; taken into account time to get settled into a hotel I would guess he'll be in around midday."  
  
Sara noticed her brother's eyes light up with joy and turned to see what the cause of this was. Catherine had come in with Lindsey. Marc smiled.  
  
"Who is this beautiful princess who stands before me?"  
  
He said as he knelt to her level.  
  
"I'm Lindsey, are you a friend of Greg's?"  
  
Lindsey said solemnly.  
  
"I'm Sara's brother, I've never met Greg, what's he like?"  
  
"He's funny and he gives me sweets. Sometimes he tells me sciencey stuff and how to catch naughty people..."  
  
Grissom raised an eyebrow at Catherine and she looked away innocently.  
  
"...but mommy said he's upset because somebody hurt his family and now they're gone."  
  
Marc looked at her sadly.  
  
"That's why he needs us all to help him and make sure he knows he has another family that will make sure he's ok."  
  
Lindsey nodded.  
  
Their conversation was interrupted by a new arrival. In through the revolving hospital doors, the unshaven face of a man in distress appeared and none of the staff so much as blinked. With bloodshot eyes and uncombed hair the man walked over to them, glancing at their CSI badges.  
  
"Jon Sanders."  
  
TBC 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
They had no idea what to say to him, so they just led him to where his son was. Marc stayed by Sara's side. Nick noted that although Sara and Marc had a lot of differences, it was clear that Marc had the same sense of compassion from the look on his face when he saw Greg. What worried him was the contempt held behind the tired blue eyes of Greg's father. Greg stared at him, waiting for him to make the first move.  
  
And he did. The whole thing was so fast Sara barely had time to register what was going on. Jonathan Sanders moved angrily towards Greg, fist raised; but Marc stopped him. He seemed to have seen in coming, and if she'd been thinking straight she supposed she would have too. Greg's father was hurling abuse at Greg, who had closed his eyes in shame. The CSI's and Marc were all shoving Jon Sanders out of the room all but yelling in his face while they were at it. But Sara couldn't tear her eyes away from Greg. She was fascinated by how he would react when the noise and conflict had gone. He opened his eyes and sighed. He glanced at Sara, but didn't meet her eyes, and just as quickly looked away again.  
  
"Greg look at me."  
  
Greg reluctantly looked somewhere over her shoulder.  
  
"No, look at *me*."  
  
He met her eyes, and Sara saw the kind of intense pain she sometimes saw in the victims on her cases. At the pity on her face he looked away again.  
  
"It's not your fault Greg."  
  
Greg looked at her sharply.  
  
"No..."  
  
He whispered in a voice filled with loss. He seemed to have gone into some kind of trance and in alarm Sara went over to the bed and touched his shoulder. Huddled up he stared into space.  
  
"Karla...Karla I'm so sorry..."  
  
He choked as devastated tears spilled over. Sara's heart was torn at the sight of the young lab tech and she cuddled him gently.  
  
"Greg it's Sara...it's going to be ok..."  
  
She passed him the nearby box of tissues and he got through about half before he finally stopped, having gotten it out of his system, which Sara knew was a good thing.  
  
"We're here for you ok? And don't listen to your father, he's just lost his wife and daughter, he's too upset to think straight."  
  
Greg didn't respond and Sara was correct in her assumption that he needed some time to think things through. She left finding Marc outside, and hugged him, only just realising that her own eyes were wet.  
  
"I'm glad you're here Marc."  
  
Her brother didn't respond, but took her home.  
  
TBC 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
Catherine and Nick made a good team. As Warrick took Grissom away, for Jon's safety, Catherine and Nick led the man to a corner of the waiting room and sat down. Catherine put on a suitably unreadable mask, but the anger and tension was obvious on Nick's face.  
  
"What the hell do you think you were doing?"  
  
Nick would have yelled, had it not been a hospital, but the pent up fury in his voice still turned a few heads Catherine's eyes betrayed her anger, but she still kept herself in check. She spoke to him with little sympathy.  
  
"I know you've just lost half your family, and that is a shock for anybody. But think about it from Greg's point of view as well, he-"  
  
"It's HIS fault."  
  
Nick spoke quickly, irritated that Catherine had been interrupted.  
  
"It is *not* his fault now listen up. Your son is in there, after being forced to watch his family and friends die, and physical torture by some psycho. He does not need this right now especially coming from you; if you're not going to help, then get out and don't come near him again."  
  
"How dare you he's my son!"  
  
Jon Sanders raged coldly. Catherine looked him in the eye and his attention was rapt.  
  
"Back in there, you were not his father."  
  
He broke the stare hastily and got to his feet, emotions high. Catherine caught his shoulder.  
  
"You've lost two people you care about, Greg lost four and he had to watch."  
  
But he broke away sharply and stormed off. Nick shook his head and walked off, presumably to calm down and think things through Catherine decided. She made a mental note to go and see Jon Sanders in a couple of days, when, hopefully emotions had cooled from anger to upset, and she could get through to him.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
The next day Warrick found the waiting room for the ward empty. He looked around in curiosity and saw Grissom coming up behind him with a cup of coffee. He shot him a questioning look and got a shrug in response. Together they went to Greg's room and found Sara outside with a relaxed smile on her face. She turned to them, then motioned to the window. Greg and Marc were chatting happily with a game of chess between them.  
  
"I didn't want to interrupt."  
  
She shrugged.  
  
"They seemed to be having a pretty intense conversation earlier, but now they are just talking normally. They're getting on like a house on fire."  
  
She shook her head with a smile and Grissom and Nick brightened slightly.  
  
"Do you know where Catherine and Warrick are?"  
  
"I haven't seen them."  
  
At that moment Catherine and Warrick wandered up.  
  
"We're here, got held up in traffic."  
  
After a few minutes Greg noticed the CSI's at the window and motioned to them to come in. His calm demeanour, so unlike his previous tenseness, refreshed them and gave them a sense of hope. That however was quickly shot...  
  
TBC 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
  
Catherine left for coffee, wondering what they would do without the caffeinated substance. It was just a shame that hospital coffee wasn't as good as Greg's blue Hawaiian.  
When the conversation died down slightly, there was a comfortable silence. They noticed Greg's smile fade and with it their hopes.  
  
"Why me?"  
  
He said quietly and more seriously than they had ever heard him. The prevailing uncomfortable silence disturbed Nick to the point where he felt he had to say something.  
  
"Hey it was just fate man, I'm sorry."  
  
Suddenly Greg's eyes glazed over and he froze.  
  
"Fate...."  
  
He whispered. Then he started shouting.  
  
"No leave her alone!!! Stop it, stop it!!! Please!!!"  
  
In alarm, the CSI's froze; Warrick managing to press the button for help. Having heard the commotion the doctors were already there.  
  
When Catherine came back they were all stood outside while doctors did whatever they did in private. She looked to Grissom questioningly.  
  
"He had a panic attack."  
  
"A panic attack?"  
  
"It's called a paroxysm in psychological terms. The part of the brain which sets off a particular emotion, whether that's anger, panic, or happiness, bypasses logical and conscious thought. It's the same as when you start laughing at something and can't stop, maybe at something which isn't even that funny, or people who become so angry they can't think, and end up killing somebody."  
  
The others stared at him. Trust Grissom to be so objective. Catherine still looked like she needed more details so Nick filled her in.  
  
"It's my fault. I said something which reminded him of it and mentally he just..."  
  
"Nick it is not your fault."  
  
Sara stated in a matter-of-fact way as she sympathetically put a hand on his shoulder. Marc nodded.  
  
"We don't need any more unwarranted blaming Nick."  
  
At the silence and confused stares Marc explained.  
  
"Well...Greg blames himself, Jon blames Greg, Sara and Nick both unwittingly set off a panic attack and blame themselves..."  
  
"Wait Sara, you set off a panic attack?"  
  
Sara looked pained as she told them of the previous night.  
  
"I guess his sister told him it wasn't his fault before she died."  
  
Grissom glanced towards the window.  
  
"That was a brave thing to do, and I think it is probably what Greg is holding onto right now."  
  
Nick sat down with his head in his hands.  
  
"This is all my fault. Not just in there, I was *at* the club they were taken, we just said hi to each other, I could have invited him for a drink or....or ANYTHING and this *wouldn't* have happened!!"  
  
"Look you *cannot* blame yourself-"  
  
"Marc you barely know Greg but you would have invited him over. I've known him for what, 3 years?"  
  
"As a colleague. I know him in a completely different context."  
  
"But-"  
  
"No this is ridiculous!!"  
  
Nick looked up at Marc's uncharacteristic outburst. They hadn't really seen Sara's brother anything but pleasant but now his tone was one of authority.  
  
"I don't understand you guys, you're blaming everybody *but* the person who's fault it is, James Roe, and NOBODY else."  
  
Sara nodded.  
  
"He's right."  
  
Nick stood up. Warrick glanced at the window and saw the doctors obliviously worked to calm Greg down and make him go to sleep  
  
"Shall we go get something to eat?"  
  
He asked, cooling some of the tension. They were all starving so they agreed. Warrick and Marc lead on, with Catherine and Grissom following on; they always found comfort from their friendship in difficult moments. Sara waited as Nick trailed behind slightly.  
  
"He's right Nick. This isn't your fault."  
  
"I know, it's just...."  
  
The others in front didn't notice as Sara and Nick grew slightly further from them to allow for a more private conversation.  
  
"Sara, is Greg going to be ok?"  
  
She looked at him; he seemed to have aged overnight. She thought carefully about her next words.  
  
"We'll make sure he's ok."  
  
They caught up with the others.  
  
TBC 


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note – Thanks for all the reviews- I really really appreciate each and every one of them :-) Olivia- Thank you for the constructive criticism, and don't worry btw I understand ;-) I apologise in advance, I wrote these a while back and haven't gone through them, but in the chapters I'm writing now I'll try and watch out for the things you told me about, though it'll be difficult since I don't have a Beta (as I'm sure is probably pretty evident) unless Krazy does it for me, and she's not American either. Thing is I don't have a whole heap of time to be honest... If I get something wrong, just tell me so I don't do it in the future (or I'll try anyways), but thanks for the help :-)  
  
**Chapter 9**  
  
"Post what?"  
  
Nick said in disbelief at the doctor standing confidently in front of him, expression unreadable.  
  
"PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It means he may experience realistic...hallucinations if you like, and other symptoms related to the incident, panic attacks, nightmares, depression, it varies from patient to patient. I haven't noticed depression as such on Mr. Sanders, but certainly panic attacks and nightmares. There is little we can do, and under these circumstances I feel the best thing to do would be to wait."  
  
"And...what do we do?"  
  
Catherine asked. The doctor shrugged.  
  
"Give him the support he needs at a time like this; make sure he knows you're there for him, most likely what you would do anyway."  
  
The doctor's last statement reminded Catherine of Greg's father and his last visit to the hospital. Her expression was one of incredulity. PTSD- that happened to other people. Not Greg. Not the young vibrant lab tech she knew. After a little while the doctor left the CSI's staring into space, until they realised he was no longer there and looked at each other instead. Somebody would have to tell Jon Sanders. Catherine realised it was the perfect opportunity to talk to him and left.  
  
At the knock he looked up slowly. Ambivalence played within him, but eventually he chose to ignore the knock. He heard the muffled voice of a woman and his eyes shot to the door.  
  
"Jon Sanders? It's Catherine Willows..."  
  
After a few moments more turmoil inside, he decided to continue ignoring it.  
  
"I have news of your son, of Greg."  
  
To this he got up and let her in, this time without hesitation. He suddenly realised how he must look to her. He hadn't shaved since he'd found out and the dark room he'd been hiding in was in such a state of chaos he felt slightly embarrassed inviting her in. Hiding. Away from life, the truth, his own actions against his son. Part of him wanted to clear up whether he really thought it was Greg's fault, or not, but a stronger part of him didn't want to think about it at all. It was easier to blame somebody he could yell at; a focus for his hate.  
  
She looked him in the eye, and he was cut short by the strength and determination emanating from her. He couldn't help but feel immediate respect for her, though he tried to pretend he still felt that same burning anger he'd felt before. In truth it had fizzled to a burning pain and loneliness.  
  
She stood, staring at him, trying to work out if his feelings had changed.  
  
"Come in"  
  
He said, almost in a daze. He hadn't spoken for a while, his voice sounded strange to him.  
  
"I don't know what you hope to achieve by coming here but..."  
  
"Your son has PTSD."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The symptoms are nightmares, depression and realistic flashbacks, panic attacks..."  
  
She found her voice sounding colder and more detached than intended, and tried to remember what Jon Sanders had been through.  
  
"Mr Sanders, I know you are looking for someone to blame, but it is not Greg's fault. The sooner you understand that the better, because right now he needs you- you need each other. If you want somebody to blame, try James Roe. You know inside it isn't Greg's fault."  
  
His face displayed his inner turmoil as he sat down. His voice was quiet and shaky as he asked,  
  
"Is there anything the doctors can do for him?"  
  
"No, it's up to the people who care about Greg. Is that you...or are you just going to lose the remaining member of your family as well?"  
  
Jon Sanders stood up angrily, but words wouldn't form, and he just watched her retreating form, until she turned around and looked at him directly, before leaving.  
  
The doctors said he'd be out in a couple of days. They said he'd be fine, they said everything would get back to normal, they said he would come through it, and to trust them, they were doctors after all. But they were only talking physically, and mentally his world seemed to be ebbing away slowly. Everything had changed. The images wouldn't extricate themselves from every thought he had, and the feeling of helplessness had hung around at the back of his mind. Those things came into themselves at night, dancing around his mind, taking over, haunting him. And they would do forever. He couldn't get away from it, no matter how hard he tried, he might as well not bother for all the good it did.  
  
Every time Marc, Nick, anyone made him laugh, tried to cheer him up, he felt guilty. Karla would never laugh again. His mother would never laugh again. Tom and Justin would never laugh again. And it was his fault- so how dare he laugh, as if he didn't even care that they were gone, as if he was over it...  
  
Or perhaps it was easier not to care about anything anymore. That way you can't get hurt. But then...if you don't care about life, what's the point? He stared at the clipboard at the end of his bed, even though he couldn't actually see it. He knew it was there, with a bulldog clip roughly holding his chart; he could picture it in his mind. He could almost feel its sharp edge digging into his wrist, the warm blood dripping-  
  
"Hey Greg"  
  
Sara said as cheerfully as she could without being tactless in the face of his recent loss.  
  
"Hey Sara."  
  
He replied, smiling slightly. The charade of a pleasant conversation continued until she was gone, and his dark thoughts returned whilst a nurse chattered at him incessantly at the same time as doing her job.  
  
TBC... 


	10. Chapter 10

Because you had to wait so long i'll give ya two. Apologies!! blushes

**Chapter 10**  
  
The doctors let him out. Finally, he was at home. Finally, his colleagues and their siblings had left him alone. But then again...did he really want to be alone?  
When they were here he could take his mind off it, just a little bit. He was going to see a counsellor on Monday; he didn't really have much choice. The pain inside wouldn't go away, it was driving him insane, why wouldn't it go, just for a little while??  
  
He tried everything to take his mind off it, but nothing worked. TV was useless, sleep was impossible, puzzles didn't help- nothing helped. He set himself to start making dinner. All he could hear were their screams. When he closed his eyes, all he saw were their faces, the memories overwhelmed him. Would he ever get away from it?  
  
Right now it didn't seem possible to escape the nightmare. He chopped up the carrots angrily, tears falling unrestrained. He couldn't take this anymore, suddenly he felt his age- he was too young to go through this, how could he live like this? He didn't want to die, he just wanted the pain to go away. He took the knife away from the vegetables, and instead forcefully cut a diagonal line across the back of his arm. Finally the pain inside him stopped, overwhelmed by the physical pain. It hurt, but at the same time it was a relief and he embraced it. The blood dripped onto the clean table and rolled off the edge onto the floor. The blood refused to slow down, and he realised he'd hit something major, as he felt himself going into shock. He didn't want this, if he had to go to hospital the others were bound to find out...then he would be in trouble, they would pity him, he'd be one of those self-harmer types, no-one would ever see him the same again. He grabbed his hand and held it closely, the world was spinning. He fell onto the floor knocking a chair down as he went, he felt weak and scared. The blood dripped through his fingers unrelentingly and he felt sick. This was it. He was going to die. As the revelation struck him, he wasn't afraid anymore. It was all ok.  
  
Jon Sanders knocked on his son's door. No response. He didn't blame his son for being angry at him, but he really needed to talk to him, apologise. He knocked again. Maybe he was out. Or maybe he was having a hallucination, or had fallen unconscious, or...he looked through the keyhole. Jon Sanders had no siblings, and his parents had both passed away. His sole remaining family member was lying in a pool of blood, rapidly losing consciousness. He knocked the door down in panic. Spotting the knife he kicked it out of the way and knelt in the blood next to Greg.  
  
"Greg?! Greg? Stay awake!"  
  
Jon reached for the phone in his pocket and dialled.  
  
"Ambulance! My son, he's losing too much blood please....21 Apartment C, Clayford road...yes...ok..."  
  
Following instructions, he compressed the blood flow and held it up, with his other hand trying to shake Greg's shoulders and wake him up.  
  
The lady on the other end kept on talking and Jon grew impatient. He knew it was rude, but finally he couldn't help it and ended the call whilst she was talking. He suspected she was tying to calm him down so he wouldn't go into shock, but he needed to be with his son. But now he wasn't sure what to do. Silently praying for an ambulance to arrive soon, he pressed slightly harder as the blood seeped through his fingers. In desperate worry Jon begged the unconscious form beside him continuously.  
  
"Greg- please stay with me stay with me please, don't die, you can't die, please, you gotta stay with me, you're all I got left, I'm so sorry I said those things, please..."  
  
When the ambulance arrived, it was all a blur to Greg's father, in shock partly due to the blood he was now covered in, but mainly due to a fear that he would never see his son again, doubled by the harshness of his last words to him.  
  
TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Olivia- :-D ...Ok so i cheated...hehe

SaraBlue- I'm English if it makes any difference, probably not but just in case. My English teacher tells me i have good sentence structure, and true i don't have a Beta but i tend to assume that, like me, people will ignore blatant mistakes and things. Could you please explain? (preferably with a little more tact though it's not your fault if you didn't mean to be rude last time, just i was a little hurt by your phrasing. Sorry if i'm being over-sensitive.)

**Chapter 11  
**  
"It was an accident."  
  
"I don't believe you."  
  
"You wouldn't, you're a shrink."  
  
"I'm a 'shrink'? I prefer the term 'psychiatrist', since it's more accurate and far less insulting. Besides 'tis most certainly better for you if I'm a psychiatrist as opposed to a 'shrink'."  
  
Greg looked at him strangely and began to think that the stereotypes of weird shrinks might be true. The psychiatrist smiled and went on.  
  
"It's a shortened form of "headshrinker", a derogatory comparison of the profession to primitive tribes who ritually dry and shrink the heads of their slain enemies."  
  
Greg continued to look at him strangely then shook his head slightly and smiled. The psychiatrist laughed a little.  
  
"Hey you learn something new every day right? So do you want to be called Gregory or Greg?"  
  
"Greg. And you are Dr..?"  
  
"Dr nothing my name's Symon."  
  
Symon was English but was clearly African in descent. Greg decided he was an oddity and was fascinated by the casual air Symon had about him, as though nothing in the world was wrong. How could this man possibly understand what he had been through? He wiped the expression of doubt off his face but it was too late. Symon was eyeing him with that same air of easy good humour, but in his eyes Greg could see empathy and understanding on a deeper level. Thankfully, Symon said nothing about the look of doubt he had caught, and moved on, no longer smiling.  
  
"A lot of people hurt themselves. I won't even bother with Statistics, they're completely useless."  
  
"Not if they're used in the right way."  
  
"But people never do, do they? Just look in some of the tabloid newspapers...but anyway as I was saying, a lot of people hurt them-"  
  
"How many people know about this? I mean, will my colleagues find out?"  
  
"You can be assured of complete confidentiality here but I wouldn't know about anyone else. Your colleagues?"  
  
"My friends. Well...not really friends, just the closest thing I have to friends now..."  
  
Greg realised that for a few moments talking to Symon he had forgotten, and a darkness returned to him. Somehow forgetting for a few moments seemed disrespectful. He had to remember them all the time, it would be wrong to just go on living life as if nothing happened, it wouldn't be fair to them. Greg struggled and kindly, Symon changed the subject.  
  
"So your father found you."  
  
At the random change of topic, and the suddenness of the statement, Greg was unsure how to answer. He nodded slightly, hoping it was all Symon wanted.  
  
"What are you going to tell him?"  
  
What are you going to tell him, what are you going to tell him...a sentence his mind had plagued him with since waking up in the ambulance and seeing his father's concerned face. It had almost become a mantra, so overwhelming in his mind he couldn't think of anything else.  
  
"I'll tell him it was an accident."  
  
Symon tilted his head slightly.  
  
"A blatant lie? Perhaps he would believe it were it not for the timing of this incident. I daresay even if it had been an accident no one would believe it after what you've been through."  
  
"Then how can you be so sure it wasn't an accident?"  
  
"Oh I believe it was an accident Greg, that you didn't mean to wind up in hospital. I can tell that much about you, you're not the attention-seeking type like that. No, you accidentally went too far but the fact remains that you did try to hurt yourself, you just told me as much."  
  
Greg absorbed all this in amazement. This atmosphere was entirely new to him.  
  
"Then what can I tell him? That I'm a freak?"  
  
"You're not a freak. Tell him...tell him, that you need some time to sort things out, tell him that you didn't mean to end up in hospital again and apologise for everything."  
  
Greg sat back slightly and nodded.  
  
"Go on then."  
  
Greg was brought out of his reverie and looked up at Symon puzzled.  
  
"Your father's waiting outside for you. Might as well go before you forget."  
  
"Time's up? ...You know I kind of expected you to be sitting there making notes through all this..."  
  
Symon laughed.  
  
"I'll be scribbling furiously after you leave."  
  
Greg smiled and left. Symon leant back in his chair thinking about the meeting, and here he stayed for some time.  
  
Greg met his father outside, and immediately Jon asked the expected question. Greg followed Symon's advice, trying not to sound too rehearsed, and watched the look of astonishment on his father's face.  
  
"You're sorry? Greg..."  
  
Overcome with emotion, Jon put his arms around his son, relieved that he was ok. Finally ending the embrace, Jon looked at the bandage on Greg's arm, then at Greg, and said:  
  
"How was the shrink?"  
  
Greg laughed genuinely for the first time in a while. His father was bewildered, but ignored it in his relief at his son's safety.  
  
TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! {{{{{{{{Reviewers}}}}}}}}

Every time I read one of your reviews it makes my day, so thank you all very much.

SaraBlue- It's all peachy :)  
  
**Chapter 12**  
  
Thinking about them was too painful. Months later, when Greg had gone back to work, he would sometimes stop, take a deep breath to try and pull himself together and begin working again with renewed vigour.  
He found that people would avoid the subject at all costs, which he sometimes found awkward. He didn't want to make people feel uncomfortable, but at the same time he needed to talk about it, and despite his earlier reservations, he was glad to be able to talk to Symon. In fact Symon seemed to know him better than he did.  
Sitting in the lab, Greg glanced at the calendar. Today was seven months the anniversary of ...that day. Before now he had always taken leave on the anniversaries of 'that day'. He stopped working. He wasn't sure if he could do this. He bit back tears as best he could. Trying to regain composure and succeeding only in that he didn't fall to pieces, he tried to repress the memories, yet the more he tried to suppress them it seemed the more he thought about them.  
  
Grissom stood in the doorway, unseen by Greg, watching the anguish play on Greg's face.  
  
"You didn't have to come in today Greg."  
  
Greg looked up at him with a pained expression, and Grissom was lost for words, feeling so much sympathy and compassion for his young lab tech.  
  
"I don't think it will ever go away. I don't think I can ever be the same again."  
  
Greg said quietly, looking down intently at the samples on his desk.  
  
"You're right, it won't go away. But it will get better. You will be the same again; it will just take time... and patience."  
  
Greg didn't look up. Perhaps he had heard this all from Symon, Grissom thought. It didn't seem like Greg believed it anyhow.  
  
"Why don't you go home Greg? You don't have to be here."  
  
"It's worse at home.", Greg mumbled.  
  
Decisively he turned to Grissom with an expression of determination on his face.  
  
"Those for me?"  
  
He pointed at the samples in Grissom's hand. Grissom looked at them as though he only just remembered that was why he was there. He handed them over and watched Greg get to work on them immediately.  
  
Grissom wandered back to his office. He had never expected his CSI's to become as close as they had done over the past months. It was lucky for Greg they did, because they had pulled together to support him when he needed it the most. Then he rephrased that thought. It was because of Greg they became closer, and guiltily, he thought of the proverb 'It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good' before he could stop himself. Somehow it was unsympathetic to Greg to think something like that.  
  
Greg had had a difficult time over the past months. The CSI's never found out about the self harming incident but Grissom knew. He had received a letter as Greg's superior explaining vaguely that Greg had some psychological issues to work out, which Grissom had the right to know about; it was the next time he saw Greg, with the bandage around his arm, hidden under a long sleeve shirt but still visible to Grissom's keen eye. The dead look in Greg's eyes had betrayed him by so desperately looking as though he didn't want Grissom to know something. There was a sense of despairing shame, and the underlying fear that he knew anyway. To Grissom, who had seen a great many things in his life of that nature, it was obvious, but he hoped the other younger CSI's didn't find out. Greg had enough to deal with already.  
  
Nick had been the most supportive of the CSI's, teamed with Marc, they and Greg acted like they had been friends for years. Nick had fallen out irrevocably with his friends due to their lack of understanding when he'd turned to them, and their ignorance of the kind of pain Greg was going through. They just couldn't contemplate the situation realistically, and carried on without the slightest attempt to understand.  
  
As the day broke, Sara sat up in bed and put down her book. It was relatively late for her to go to bed, but that was because she'd had Marc, Warrick, Greg and Nick over for 'dinner', though it was breakfast for Marc. She smiled at how well it had gone. She wondered how Catherine and Grissom were, neither of whom could make it.  
Catherine saw Lindsey off to school. Warrick ran past her house, and she waved to him. Today he stopped outside to talk before going on.  
  
The End


End file.
